


They Call Her Six

by acutewetsock



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, F/F, Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acutewetsock/pseuds/acutewetsock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sixth time that she's ever acted as if she was a courier, she is shot, and when they say miracle, she says give it a couple more times. Sixth because the next time she acts as if she is a human and not a number, she is shot, and wonders if it will take four more times before she finally kicks it. Maybe she is trying to act as if she a cat, but failing like everything and only manages for six instead of nine, and maybe she'll actually die after this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Call Her Six

They call her Six because she's the sixth. 

The sixth time that she's ever acted as if she was a courier, she is shot, and when they say miracle, she says Sixth. Sixth because the next time she acts as if she is a human and not a number, she is shot, and wonders if it will take four more times before she finally kicks it. Maybe she is trying to act as if she a cat, but failing like everything and only manages for six instead of nine. 

She calls herself Six because its easier than saying she is a person and not a solution for all of the problems. They hand her two rocks, and tell her she needs to start the fire. The fire? What fucking fire? The fire that starts itself behind her eyes when she closes them, the fire that follows her into her dreams, burning the good and providing light for the bad to show itself?

Some days, she throws herself into a suicide mission, some days she throws herself into four just to forget the six dead children hanging from crosses that died in her arms after trying to pull the nails out of too small hands.

The NCR calls her brave, The Fiends call her dangerous, The Strip calls her friend, lover, crazy fucking bitch, but they do not attempt to justify anything that she has done- they don't say, "She's been through a lot," because it's The Mojave and everyone here has been through a motherfucking lot. She calls herself a walking freight train, stopping from one place to the next- helping people, killing people, and usually failing all the way. She shouldn't have been that surprised when she picked up six people willing to go along for the ride, it seems to be her Lucky yet still fucking Unlucky number.

Lucky because even though she refuses to admit to such, she enjoys them. Unlucky, because even though she refuses to admit to such, she has a certain soft spot for scavenging scribes who prefer hoods and dresses, and it will most likely be her downfall.

Her downfall, as it turns out to be, is her number. It is not her name, but it is her number. She realizes this in a ditch with mud caked on the blood from the six scratches deep, deep, deep not like a bullet, but like scratches on the armor that would slowly start to break it down until it was nothing but a broken little girl with a broken shotgun in a ditch with mud caked on over the blood because this time, her number was up.


End file.
